Star Light
by hotsytotsy186
Summary: A beautiful cruise... A calm ocean... A mysterious murder.
1. Prologue

The sound of waves was something foreign to dry heat of Las Vegas. Sure there were fountains and even one casino with an ocean theme, but nothing could compare to the sound of actual waves as they lapped up gently upon the shore, sea gulls crying in the distance. Sara took this all in silently, leaning back into a pair of strong arms.

"I never thought we'd actually be here," she said over her shoulder.

The arms tightened around her waist in reply. "But we are."

Sara's arm reached up and gently traced the outline of his cheek, turning and stopping briefly to finger the coarse hair of his beard. "And I couldn't be happier." She leaned in and laid a gently kiss on his lips, not the first since the ceremony had legally made them man and wife.

"You know, Mrs. Grissom, standing here, on this enormous deck, amidst these teeming masses of people is nice. I'm sure some of these people are enjoying immensely."

"Well, Mr. Grissom, do you have a better idea? A better view of Miami before the ship launches on this, our honeymoon?"

"I think I have a few better ideas, yes." At this she giggled, giddy as a school girl. She knew it was foolish, but, if she had to be honest, she could never (and never had, actually) imagine herself as purely happy as she was at this very moment. Obediently she clasped her husband's hand as he guided her back to their cabin.


	2. Chapter 1

Their first few days aboard the Star Light, Princess Cruise's very new, very posh ocean liner, had been wonderful. Aside from their brief strolls along the deck and an occasional meal in the dinning room, the newlyweds had barely left their room. Sara instinctively flexed her left ring finger and smiled as the moonlight danced along the ridges of the 1 karat stone. It was simple and elegant, a clean cut set in a white gold band.

And she absolutely loved it.

"It still looks good on you."

She smiled. "I think so." Grissom, Gil as she had begun to call him outside of work some months ago, brushed her hair from her shoulder and lightly kissed the back of her neck.

Wrapping his arms tight around her, he sighed. "Thank you."

"For what?" she queried.

"For saying yes when I asked you to marry me."

"Well," she turned. "With a piece of hardware like this it would be inappropriate not to."

Her smile was cut off by yet another kiss, this one decidedly more passionate than the last. The fumbling journey to the bed that followed, however, stopped short as a scream pierced the late night air.

"What was that?" Gil shrugged and moved to the door, cinching his robe as he went. Sara followed. Years of training showed as he opened the door just crack, ensuring that neither he nor his new wife was in the line of danger in the event that the something was truly occurring in the hall. Satisfied that all was clear, he entered the hallway, stopping abruptly. So much so, in fact, that Sara ran into him.

"Gil, what the..." But the sight before her shut her mouth.

A woman, presumably the screamer, stood against the wall trembling. Directly in front of her, appearing to have materialized from one of the alcoves that encased to doors to the rooms stood a man, drenched in blood. He too was trembling, a look of horror enveloping his face, but his horror was directed at the object in his hand: a knife. He swallowed and looked up at Gil and Sara..

"I... uh..." He had no words. In the deafening silence, Sara heard a drop of blood fall lightly from the knife and hit the puddle that had begun forming below it. "Oh my god!" the man cried piteously as he seemed to realize what he was holding. The knife quickly descended to the ground. Just as quickly, the man evaporated into a puddle of tears, falling to his knees.

By now a crowd had gathered in the hallway, not a large one, ten to fifteen people perhaps. Not one made a sound.

"Sir," Gil made his way to the man, careful to avoid both the puddle of blood and the bloody footprints. "What happened?"

"I..." he shook his head, a forlorn look began forming itself in his brown eyes. "I don't know. I don't know."

Gil turned to look into the room the man had emerged from. Absolute carnage. That was the only way to describe it. There was quite a bit of splatter and cast off covering all four walls. The bed, unmade, stood against theright wall with two nightstands flanking it. The exact mirror image of Sara and Grissom's cabin. Only their cabin didn't have two feet cocked at odd angles peering out from behind the bed. The curtain at the balcony ruffled gently in the breeze.

When Grissom's eyes finally met hers, Sara knew the honeymoon was officially over.


	3. Chapter 2

"People! People! Please, will you please just return to your cabins. We have taken every precaution to ensure your safety." Jonas Miller,Head of Security,spoke loudly over the low din that had begun as word of murder spread down the hall. Dressed in an Armani suit, the man stood in stark contrast to the passengers, most of whom were in pajamas or robes. He ran a hand through his short cropped black hair as he viewed the scene before him.

Rory Talmedge, 27C, covered in blood, sat against the wall to the right of his cabin with two security guards beside him. The carpet before him was covered in blood, more like soaked in it by this point. A pair of bloody footprints came out of 27C leading directly to Mr. Talmedge. The owners were not going to like this.

"Excuse me," an older man, wrapped tightly in a robe approached him, followed closely by a lanky brunette similarly clad. _Sugar Daddy? _Miller thought. _Or maybe he's loaded and the lady's an Anna Nicole: no way he could her._

"Sir, please, if you will just go back to your cabin, my security staff has everything under control." Miller glanced around. A few gawkers still stood in the hall watching.

"No," the woman pressed forward. "You don't understand. You and your men are contaminating this crime scene."

"Who are you, Columbo? Just, please," he sighed, exasperated. "Go back to your room."

"Not exactly. I'm Dr. Gil Grissom and this is Sara... Grissom. We're with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department."

"You're cops?" he asked incredulously.

"No," she said. "We're crime scene investigators. This crime scene needs to be secured."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"Well you're not doing a very good job of it."

"I can't exactly push them into their rooms, now can I?" he gestured to the five people clustered abouttwenty-five feet down, whispering amongst themselves with one gesturing animatedly filling the late comers in with what was happening.

The woman, clearly frustrated by now cleared her throat. Speaking loudly enough so that the group could hear her, she said, "I'm with the Las Vegas Police Department. You need to clear out now and go back to your rooms."

"This isn't Las Vegas," one of the onlookers replied.

"No it isn't. But that doesn't mean that you still won't be guilty of impeding a criminal investigation, disobeying police orders, and criminal misconduct. That's five to ten right there. Want to make it fifteen to twenty?" Sullenly the group dispersed. At the final click of the door, the woman turned back to Miller. "There."

Miller cleared his throat gruffly. "Thank you Ms. Grissom."

She forced a smile. "Mrs."

"Mrs. Grissom." _A classic Anna Nicole. _"Thank you. Now if the two of you would just please return to your suite."

"Sir, we'd like to offer our help with the investigation."

"Yes, sir. Well the Princess Cruise Line gratefully thanks you for your willingness to help, but I and the other members of our security team will be able to handle it from here."

"Are your men trained to process a crime scene?" he asked.

"Dr. Grissom," Miller leaned in to make his point. "Look at him. He's covered in blood. He was holding the knife. What more proof do we need to convict him."

"He says he has no memory of the event, sir. That at least warrants an investigation."

"And we will investigate, _Mrs._ Grissom. Now just go back to bed, or whatever it was you were doing, and when you wake up in the morning this will all be cleaned up. It'll be like it never happened." Jonas Miller had never seen two people blanche as quickly and as completely as the two before him.

"Clean it up?" she yelled.

"Sir, you certainly cannot do that. An investigation of a crime scene of that magnitude will take at least a couple of hours."

"Dr. and Mrs. Grissom- Look, this is not Las Vegas. This is not even the United States of America. We are in international waters, under the jurisdiction of no principality or nation. Cruise lines are like little countries," heexplained. "If there is a crime in our country, we deal with it internally."

"And maybe let a murderer off scot free." This was one fiery lady.

"He's guilty, look at him." He made a broad sweep of his hands.

"But sir, if there is anyvalidity to his story, that he doesn't remember, you will be responsible for letting a guilty man go free. Maybe he was drugged and when he came to he was holding the knife. Any number of drugs could do that."

"Dr. Grissom, for the last time, would you take your wife and return to your cabin."

The man stood thoughtfully for a second. Jonas Miller could see the steam coming out of the wife's ears. Finally he spoke, slowly and carefully, so as not to be misunderstood. "Absolutely not. There has been a crime committed here tonight and neither my wife nor I will leave until there has been a thorough investigation of the crime scene and of that man. My wife and have lengthy experience with such crime scenes and have offered to aid in the investigation. Our testimony will stand up in court and, if this man is guilty, he will go to prison for a long time. If he is not, the evidence that _we_ find will exonerate him." He paused. Miller was not moved. "If you do not let us examine this crime scene, we will be sure to tell every newspaper and television station from here to Timbuktu what has happened tonight. And we will have documentary photos to back it up. And you, sir, will most likely lose your job. And your reputation."

"That's extortion. Not exactly ethical in your line of work."

"Neither is letting a murderer go free."


End file.
